I’ve spent the last couple of years trying to get humans to do something that, in theory, should be easy: come together… as a community.
A simple idea. A beautiful one, in fact. An idea that has inspired poets, prophets, and marketing teams since, well, forever.
But let me tell you this (mmmhuhhhh, that’s right, I said it): in practice, it feels exactly like trying to herd feral cats into a cooperative cuddle puddle.
And I’m not talking about the cute house-cats that live for food and scratches. I’m talking parking-lot cats. Dumpster-diving cats. Those cats who look at you like, “What are you lookin’ at, huh?”
Humans, it turns out, are basically like that.
We are impertinently individualistic. Each one of us has this nearly unbreakable inner structure of self-determination that refuses to bend too far in any direction that wasn’t our own idea. You push on it, ever so gently, and it snaps right back with a hiss and a flick of the tail.
I have noticed something interesting though. Like feral cats, humans absolutely will work together… but only when it serves their own immediate survival needs. An alliance of convenience. A temporary truce. “I’ll help you get that trash can open if you give me first dibs on the rotisserie chicken scraps.”
But rarely do we cooperate, too much anyway, purely because it’s good for the whole collective. We want the benefits of community without surrendering the sovereignty of the self. So than, the big questions start to come up:
- What would it take to change that?
- Is there some way to inspire humans to work together for mutual benefit, not just personal gain?
- Are some people naturally wired for collaboration? (Bless their gentle souls.) Or is cooperation a learned behavior that must be squeezed out of us like toothpaste from a nearly empty tube?
And here’s where my brain shifts into full nerd mode.
Game theory, specifically a giant-group version of the Prisoner’s Dilemma, tells us that when everyone acts only out of self-interest, we all end up worse off. We hit a Nash equilibrium: a point where no one wants to move because moving might make us lose what we already have.
It’s stable. Predictable. Safe… and completely sub-optimal.
Communities get stuck there. We call it “the way things are.” Don’t rock the boat. Don’t take the risk. Just keep doing your own little thing in your own little corner and hope the system somehow magically improves.
But what if we could actually move the equilibrium?
What if we could redesign the incentives so that cooperation isn’t a sacrifice but a reward? What if helping others automatically helps yourself? What if belonging, contribution, and collective success were the obvious winning strategy? What if we could make community itself the Nash equilibrium?
I think that’s a challenge worth chasing. Not forcing cats into a kennel, but making collaboration feel like the sunniest spot on the couch.
So here I am, still calling out to the parking-lot cats, the stubborn, scrappy, freedom-loving ones, saying:
Hey. We could build something amazing here together. And you might even enjoy it.
Until then, I’ll keep herding. Or, at least, trying.
Join us in making the world a better place. You’ll be glad that you did.
Cheers, friends.